Propinquity
by Kalimyre
Summary: What if Niles and Daphne had met at a different time in both their lives?  N/D, complete.
1. Chapter 1

Propinquity: noun: _nearness, closeness, affinity, kinship; also meaning nearness in place or time and nearness in relationship_

OOO

Niles eyed his closet with discontent. It was bad enough that he no longer had the glorious walk-in closet at the Montana, but to be forced to condense his wardrobe into this piffling pocket of space was adding insult to injury. He'd had to put many of his possessions into storage when he moved to the Shangri-La; most of it just wouldn't fit in the tiny apartment.

Letting go of his antiques and his art, his ten piece crepe pan set and his Portuguese bud vase collection, he could live with that. That was the price of his freedom. But that didn't make it any easier to look into that pathetic closet and realize there was only room for a fraction of his summer-weight selections.

And worse, dry cleaning cost money (it was alarming, Niles had discovered, how very many things cost money when you didn't have enough of it) and the Shangri-La did not boast a washer and dryer in the apartment. Instead he had to take his laundry and his little bottle of soap and walk down to the communal laundry room.

Niles sighed. It was Saturday night and Maris was probably out at some party or another, on the arm of the latest in a series of men since Schenkman had left her. In the meantime there he was, pondering an exciting evening of laundry and reading while he watched the dryer spin. Hell, even _Frasier _had a date. Niles was sure he'd hear all about it when they had coffee on Monday, but until then there was only the empty stretch of the weekend ahead of him.

He gathered up his laundry soap, quarters, and clothes basket, and nudged the door open with his elbow. Shuffling down the hall, he could hear laughter coming from the rec room, and catcalls over someone's lousy aim at darts. The lady in the apartment by the stairs was yelling at her kids again, and someone was making spaghetti because the whole floor smelled of the sauce.

The laundry room was at the end of the hall and he trudged in and set his things down on the table just inside the door. Then he looked up, and saw her for the first time.

She had her back to him, and his eyes traced her from the ground up. Long, slender legs, smooth beneath a simple cotton dress that hugged her hips and swirled around her knees enticingly. He stared at the way the fabric shifted and slid over her back as she folded clothes into a basket. Her hair tumbled loose over her shoulders, a rich brown that shone even in the grim fluorescent light. Her waist looked the perfect size to fit his hands around, to hold just so, and then he'd slide them down a bit, he thought. His fingers twitched at his sides and he swallowed hard, making a dry click in his throat.

"Oh, hello," she said, glancing over her shoulder at him.

Niles jumped and jerked his gaze upward. "Hi," he wheezed.

"I won't be in your way much longer," she said, "I'm almost done."

"Take your time," he replied, and offered her a dazed smile. "Um… I don't think we've met."

She turned to face him fully, still shaking out a freshly dried towel. Her eyes were a deep coffee colored shade, warm and sparkling, and her smile made him clutch at the table for support. "No, we haven't," she said. "I'm Daphne Moon. Are you new here?"

"Um," he said. "Yes, I just moved in. Apartment five?"

"Oh, Gary's old place," she said, nodding.

"Yes," Niles agreed. "My name is Niles. Crane. Niles Crane. Um, Doctor Niles Crane. I mean."

Her smile widened into something close to laughter. "Good to meet you, Doctor Niles Crane."

"Call me Niles," he said, and stuck out his hand.

She took it and he forgot to feel embarrassed over his bumbling introduction. Her hand was soft and warm in his, strong where Maris had always been cold and frail. He had to make himself let go.

"Well, Niles," she said, "I guess we'll be neighbors. I live right across the hall from you."

Niles could feel himself grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't seem to stop. "Well," he said. "Good! I mean, that you… I'm glad to, ah, get to know my neighbors."

"Likewise," she replied. "Have you lived in Seattle long? It's a beautiful city, I'm still learning my way around."

"All my life," he said. "Where are you from? That's a lovely accent, is that Manchester?"

She flashed him a pleased smile and he stood a little taller. "Yes, how'd you know?" she asked.

"Well, I'm quite the anglophile." He hesitated, and then added, "You know, if you need someone to show you around the city…"

"Oh, that would be too much trouble," she said. "I mean, you're a doctor, you've probably got patients and, you know, surgeries and rounds and so forth."

"It's no trouble," he insisted. "I'm not that kind of doctor, actually. Well, I am, but I practice psychiatry, not general medicine."

"Oh," she said, nodding. "Well that makes more sense. I kept seeing you sitting at a desk, writing things down on a little pad, and you're never wearing one of those white coats."

Niles blinked a couple times and tilted his head to the side. "What?"

She laughed. "Oh, sorry, I should have explained. I'm a bit psychic."

"Oh," Niles said. "Well, that's…"

"It comes and goes," she continued. "Me Grammy Moon had it strongest of all, and she said it always carries down to the girls in me family. Of course, I'm the only girl in the family now, and none of me brothers got a bit of it. Simon was convinced he did for a while, and he kept saying he could use it to beat his mates at poker, but then they found out he was just stacking the deck and being psychic didn't have a thing to do with his lucky streak. They got him back for it though! They all tied him up, stuffed him in the car, and then put him in one of those nasty little portable toilets they have at construction sites. Tipped it over on the door so he couldn't get out and made him spend the night there. It took a week of showers before he smelled right again."

She chuckled and put the last towel in the basket, then smiled brightly at Niles.

"Oh," he said again, bemused. "Um. Okay. That offer still stands to show you around, if you like."

"No thanks," Daphne said, shaking her head. "I appreciate the offer, but I couldn't take up your time like that. We've only just met!"

"Okay," Niles said. He dredged up an understanding smile. He supposed he really should have known better-expecting a beautiful woman like this to spend time with him? It had been foolish to even ask, and he never would have tried if he hadn't been so completely awed by his first sight of her.

"Maybe after we've gotten to know each other better," she said.

Niles looked back up at her, hopeful again. "Oh?"

"I'm sure we'll see each other all the time, being neighbors." She gathered her things and put them on top of her basket of clean clothes. "There you go, washing machine's all yours."

"Thank you," Niles replied absently. He glanced at it, and then looked again, frowning. He had done his own laundry before. Not often, but he'd done it. A coin operated machine was new, though, and he eyed it warily.

He could feel Daphne watching him and heat rose in his face as he flushed in embarrassment. Now he was going to utterly fail at something as simple as doing laundry, right in front of her. _Way to make a great first impression, _he thought ruefully.

"First time?" she asked gently, and Niles shot her a sheepish look over his shoulder.

"No, no, of course not," he said. Then he sighed, and admitted, "Well… yes."

She chuckled, but it wasn't derisive. "I get the feeling you're used to having someone do this for you."

"Is it that obvious?"

"It's all right," she said. "Here, you have quarters?"

"Oh, yes," he said, fishing two out of his pocket. "Where do they go?"

"Give them here." He dropped the quarters in her hand, feeling a tingle run all the way up his arm as his fingertips brushed her palm. She showed him where they went in the machine, fiddled with the dials a bit, and soon the thing was humming agreeably.

Niles gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks," he said.

"Anytime," she replied. "Good meeting you, Niles."

"You too," he said, and she was gone, gliding gracefully down the hall with her laundry basket propped on one hip. He watched her until she disappeared into her apartment (indeed right across the hall from his, he noted with delight) and then he sat on the lone metal folding chair and let out a long sigh.

Suddenly, life at the Shangri-La didn't seem so bad.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

On Monday, Frasier was late for their usual meeting at Café Nervosa. It was nearly eleven when he showed up, and Niles was impatiently sipping his second cup of coffee.

"There you are," he said when Frasier dropped into a chair beside him.

"Yes, I'm sorry," his brother replied. "I just got into another argument with Dad."

Niles frowned. "Again? What is it this time?"

"He wants to fire his physical therapist."

"Another one?" Niles shook his head. "How long did this one last, a month?"

"Three weeks," Frasier replied. "Dad says she won't let him have more than one Ballantine a night."

"Oh, Frasier," Niles said. "How many people are you going to go through? He manages to find fault with every single one of them."

"I know, I know." Frasier spread his hands helplessly. "There was Susan, she lasted nearly a year."

"Yes, until she got married and moved out," Niles replied. "What about Daniel? He was so efficient, and his cooking was amazing."

"Yes, I did notice how often you happened to stop by around dinner time when he worked for us," Frasier observed dryly.

Niles waved a dismissive hand. "What was wrong with him?"

"Oh, you know Dad," Frasier replied. "He wasn't comfortable with a male therapist. Won't go to a female doctor, but when someone is helping him in and out of the tub, it has to be a woman."

"Ah, right," Niles said. He tapped a finger to his lips thoughtfully. "Denise?"

"Played her music too loud."

"What about Rosie?"

"Allergic to Eddie."

"Who was the one that insisted on wearing pink every single day?"

Frasier shuddered. "Andrea. I fired her myself."

Niles gave his brother a disapproving look. "Just for wearing pink?"

"Wearing it I could live with, but she was none too careful with the laundry and after my second set of pink shorts, I'd had enough."

"Oh, right, I remember that," Niles said, chuckling. "You made quite a picture on the squash court that day."

"Well it was either that or borrow your spare shorts," Frasier retorted. "And I think we both know how that would have turned out."

Niles smiled and sipped his coffee. "So what are you going to do?"

Frasier shrugged. "Call the agency again, I suppose. See if they've got anyone else. Surely we can't have gone through every home healthcare worker in Seattle."

"Mmm, well, good luck." Niles flashed his brother a grin. "So, speaking of laundry, guess what I did this weekend?"

"Laundry?" Frasier asked, deadpan.

"Very funny," Niles returned, "but that's not all. I met someone."

"And this is related to laundry how, exactly?"

Niles flapped a hand at him impatiently. "I'm getting to it. Picture this, if you will. Saturday evening at the Shangri-La. There I am, pondering my dismal apartment and the equally dismal closet, and I decide to do laundry. So I go down to the laundry room and there, folding her towels, was Venus herself."

Frasier raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Frasier, she's _stunning._ And kind, and warm, and she taught me how to use a coin-operated washing machine!" Niles bounced a little in his chair. "Her name is Daphne."

"Well, good for you," Frasier said, clasping his brother's shoulder. "So did you strike up a conversation?"

Niles lifted one shoulder noncommittally. "Well, sort of. She's new to Seattle and I did offer to show her around, but she turned me down."

"Oh, Niles. I'm sorry."

"But all is not lost," Niles continued. "She lives right across the hall! And she gave me the impression that she might change her mind and say yes once she knows me a little better. I mean really, she's just showing good sense. She's not the kind of girl who goes out with just anyone, and certainly not some random strange man who lives at the Shangri-La and tries to pick up women in the laundry room." Niles put a hand over his face as he replayed the last few words in his mind. "Oh, god, what am I thinking? I never should have tried to ask her out so soon. I probably seem lonely and desperate and pathetic and…"

"Niles!" Frasier squeezed his arm to cut him off. "Stop it. Now, just think. How did she react? Did she seem nervous or uncomfortable?"

"Well… no," Niles said. "Actually, she told me this odd story about her family. Something about her brother and his poker exploits."

"So she was making conversation? Smiling, friendly?"

"Yes," Niles said slowly. "She smiled a lot, actually. And she said it was good meeting me."

"So, that's good," Frasier told him. "Don't give up so easily. What does she do?"

"Oh," Niles said, frowning. "I don't know. We didn't get to that. She did tell me she's a bit psychic, though."

"Ah," Frasier replied.

"Don't be so judgmental," Niles told him.

"I didn't say anything."

"We both know perfectly well what you were thinking," Niles replied. "So she's a little eccentric. It's charming."

"If you say so." Frasier swallowed the last of his coffee and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "If you're so taken with this woman, you should try talking to her again."

"How am I going to do that? Hang around the laundry room and hope she shows up?"

"You're neighbors," Frasier pointed out. "Borrow a cup of sugar or something. Or you could always accidentally slip a little of your mail into her mailbox so she has to bring it to you."

Niles rolled his eyes. "Are you still using that old trick?"

"It got me my date on Saturday," Frasier said, smugly. "And, might I add, breakfast on Sunday."

Niles closed his eyes briefly at the thought of such an evening with Daphne. "All right," he said. "I'll try."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, he didn't have to slip his mail into Daphne's mailbox. That was just as well, since most of his mail was bills and documents from his lawyer, and he didn't especially want her to know that Maris was still dragging him vindictively through the longest possible divorce. Niles saw Daphne again just a few days later, as he walked through the rec room on his way to his apartment and stopped dead at the sight of her leaning over the pool table, lining up a shot.

She was wearing black leggings with a short skirt over top and as he watched, she rose up on her toes, reaching across the table. His mouth went dry all at once and he reached blindly for the door frame, clinging to it. Her arm moved in a smooth arc as she took the shot, and the balls clicked rapidly as three of them sank into pockets. She made a satisfied sound and moved around the table for the next shot.

"Well done," he said, and she jumped a little, startled.

"Oh!" She smiled at him. "Niles, hello. Didn't know I had an audience."

"Do you always play alone?" he asked.

"No, but there was nobody else here and I felt like practicing a bit," she replied. "Do you play?"

"Not really," he admitted. "Games involving balls are not my strong suit."

"Oh, come on," she said, waving him forward. "Give it a try, it's not that hard."

Niles picked up a cue and eyed it uncertainly. The tip was covered in some kind of blue dust and he pulled out his pocket square to clean it. He glanced up when he heard Daphne giggle. "What?"

Her smile was kind, but her eyes danced merrily and he got the feeling she was laughing at him a little. "That's chalk," she told him. "You're supposed to leave it on the cue."

"Oh," Niles said. "Right. I knew that."

"Here you go." She handed him a small dusty blue cube and showed him how to add more chalk to the tip of the cue stick. "Now, help me rack the balls."

He followed her lead, pulling balls out of the pockets and lining them up in a triangle on the table. She carefully put them in order, alternating stripes and solids, and Niles paid close attention. Maybe if he was a quick study at this, she wouldn't think him quite so foolish.

She lifted the triangle away, leaving the balls neatly grouped at one end of the table. Then she placed the white cue ball at the other end, and stepped back. "All right," she said. "Let's see how you break."

Niles gave her a confused glance. "Break?"

"It means take the first shot. Shoot the cue ball into the group and break them up, knock them about the table a bit. If you get one in, good, but the idea is really to move them around as much as you can."

"Oh, all right." Niles tried to hold the cue the way he'd seen her do it, gripping it with his right hand while the narrow end slid through the fingers of his left.

"Hold on." Her voice was close and Niles froze, his breath catching in his throat. When he looked over, she was right beside him. "Here, like this." She put a hand on his arm, changing his angle, and her other hand covered his on the table.

"Okay," he said, faintly. She had laced their fingers together and her side was pressed close against his. He caught her scent and breathed it in. It was like a complex wine, rich and alluring. He could feel the warmth of her through two layers of clothing, and as she leaned against him, his skin tingled everywhere they touched.

"Nice and smooth," she said, moving the cue gently through their joined hands. "Just glide it forward, hit the ball right in the middle, a good straight shot. You see?"

Niles nodded and she pulled back. He took a deep breath to compose himself and settle his spinning senses, and then he made the shot. The cue ball skewed to the side a little but it still hit the group of balls at the other end of the table, and they spun off in every direction.

"Well done!" Daphne said, giving him a little squeeze on the shoulder.

"I didn't get any in," Niles pointed out.

"That's fine," she assured him. "It was a very nice break. You're a natural!"

Niles grinned as he watched her line up a shot. She sank the five ball neatly in a corner, and smiled back at him. "Okay, that means you're on stripes. So you try to get the balls with stripes in, and I try to get the solid ones, all right?"

"Right," Niles said.

"Now you take a turn." She gestured at the table expectantly.

"Isn't it still your turn?"

"Technically yes, but this game is just for practice." She surveyed the table and then pointed out the twelve ball, sitting near one of the side pockets. "Try for that one, you've got a good shot."

Niles lined himself up behind the cue ball and bit his lip in concentration. Then he edged to the side a little, throwing his angle off. As he'd hoped, Daphne nudged him back. Her hands covered his again, and her voice was low and soft in his ear. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as a shiver raced down his spine.

"Just like that," Daphne said. "Look at the path you want the ball to follow, think about where you have to hit the twelve to knock it in. You want to be more gentle for this shot, just roll it on over, nice and easy."

Niles let her guide him and it was perfect; the cue ball glided across the table, kissed neatly against the twelve, which sank into the pocket with a satisfying click. Niles straightened, beaming. "Did you see that?" he asked Daphne. "I made the basket!"

She laughed and slapped him lightly on the arm. "Made the basket! Oh, you're funny."

"I am?" Niles gave her a bewildered smile.

"You are," she replied firmly. "Here, now try for the fourteen, in the corner."

With her help, he managed to keep up, although he was certain that she was holding herself back to keep things even. Together they were able to sink all the balls, and she got the eight ball last in a beautiful shot that bounced off two sides of the table before dropping into one corner, right where she'd pointed.

"Amazing," Niles said.

"Oh, thanks," she replied. "I've been playing this game ever since I was a little girl. I started with me older brothers when I was six. I've spent many a happy hour in the pool halls of Manchester, and even in local competitions."

"I can imagine," Niles replied. "You know, I've been meaning to ask, what brought you to Seattle?"

Daphne perched on the edge of the pool table, dangling her legs over the side. "Oh, it's been a dream of mine for years. I always wanted to live in America. Me whole family has never left Manchester, you know. Me father and me brothers all working on the docks. Well, except for me brother Billy, he came home from school one day and said he wanted to teach ballroom dancing!" She chuckled merrily. "And he did! And he does. He's the only one though, the rest of the Moon men are all down hauling nets, and then off to the pub every evening."

"So you wanted to get away from all that?" Niles sat on the edge of the table beside her, and let their shoulders bump together companionably.

"Well, that's part of it," she said. "I wanted to go out on my own, do something different. I knew if me mum had her way, I'd be married off and have a house full of kids in no time, and she's never approved of my career."

"Oh?" Niles asked. "What do you do?"

"I'm a physical therapist," Daphne replied.

Niles stared at her, and she raised her eyebrows quizzically. "Really?" he asked.

"Yes, why?"

Niles smiled. "Are you by any chance looking for a job?"

"Why, yes I am," she said. "You know of one?"

"I do!" Niles was thrilled-here was his chance to help her, to come to the rescue like a knight in shining armor. "My father lives with my brother, here in Seattle. He was a policeman for nearly thirty years, until he was shot breaking up an armed robbery. He still has trouble with his hip and I happen to know he's looking for a new physical therapist."

Daphne threw her arms around him in an impulsive hug. "Niles, that's wonderful! I don't mean about your father being shot, that's awful, but if I could get a job I could stay here! I've been so worried that I wouldn't be able to find something and I'd have to go back home and listen to everyone tell me that they told me so, especially me mum, I'd never hear the end of it."

"Well we can't have that," Niles replied. "I'll talk to my brother and set up the interview."

"Thank you so much!" she said, and kissed him soundly on the cheek. Niles closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of her soft touch, and when he opened them she was looking at him steadily. There was a taut moment when Niles was almost certain she was going to kiss him again, for real this time, and he held his breath.

But it passed and she hopped down off the table and picked up her cue. "So," she said. "How about another game?"

"I'd love to," he replied.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Niles had patients the morning of Daphne's interview, but he was barely able to give them the attention they deserved. He kept thinking of how it was going, and what it would be like if she worked for Frasier. Some of the therapists they'd had were live in positions and some weren't, and he wasn't sure if she would live with them or stay at the Shangri-La. He didn't know which he preferred-he liked having her across the hall, but he didn't plan to live there forever and the thought of her being there alone, with all those single men prowling around, made him shudder.

Of course, she hadn't even gotten the job yet, but he couldn't help thinking that she would. He had liked her instantly (well, all right, he'd been attracted to her instantly, but he liked her too) and he was sure Frasier and his father would take to her just as well.

Then again, she was quirky and eccentric and very open, she didn't have the cool reserve that Frasier seemed to look for. But his dad should like that, he liked people who were direct and honest and Daphne certainly was that.

Niles frowned, tapping a finger against his chin. Maybe a little too honest. She did tend toward random odd stories about her family and although he found them frankly adorable he didn't think Frasier would share that opinion. Would she tell them about the whole psychic thing during the interview? Well, Frasier already knew about it anyway, and Niles could just kick himself for blurting that out. That would probably prejudice him against Daphne from the start.

"Doctor Crane?"

Niles lifted his head and met his patient's eyes. "Yes?"

"Are you listening?"

"Of course I am," he replied. "Just making some notes. Please, continue."

Niles made himself focus for the rest of the session, but the moment his patient was out the door, he whipped out his phone. Frasier answered on the third ring.

"Well?" Niles asked. "What did you think?"

Frasier's exasperated sigh carried over the phone with perfect clarity. "Dad loved her. She starts Monday."

"Yes!" Niles shot out of his seat, throwing one fist in the air. "I told you! Isn't she phenomenal?"

"She's a kook! I don't like her."

Niles scowled. "How can you say that? Can't you see how open and compassionate and kind she is? She's an angel."

Frasier's eye roll was nearly audible. "She's very pretty, which appears to be the only part of your description that you got right."

"She is more than 'very pretty' and you know it," Niles retorted. "Thank god at least Dad has the good sense to hire her."

"We'll see how long it lasts," Frasier said.

"Don't be like that," Niles coaxed. "Give her a chance, and trust me, you'll be glad you did."

"At least I won't be seeing much of her. I managed to convince Dad that we should only hire her part time for now, as a trial period, before we have her move in."

"Well," Niles said, smiling, "more good news. Thank you for giving her the chance at an interview, Frasier. It means a lot to me."

Frasier's voice warmed a little. "You're welcome. I just hope…"

"What?"

"Well, you've become infatuated with this woman very quickly, and on the basis of only a chance meeting over laundry and a pool lesson. After what happened with Maris, aren't you concerned about the risks of a rebound relationship?"

"What do you mean?" Niles asked.

"You know as well as I do the responses people have to the end of a marriage, or any significant long term relationship. Starting a new relationship is a quick fix, a salve to the wounds caused by rejection. But the rebound is doomed to fail. You need to take time to grieve and recover before you jump into something new."

"That's ridiculous. My marriage has been over for years."

"Has it?" Frasier asked. "You're not divorced yet."

"That's only because Maris is dragging it through the courts. She wants to make me pay for turning her down."

"So when did your marriage truly end, Niles?"

He thought about it for a moment. "The night I found Schenkman in her bed," he replied. "That was when I knew it was over."

"And that was only a few months ago," Frasier pointed out quietly. "Are you sure Daphne isn't just something to distract you from the pain of your wife having an affair? Maybe even a way to get revenge on Maris by having one of your own?"

"It's not like that," Niles insisted. "This is different. She's different."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Niles said firmly. "Daphne is special. You'll see."

"You know I'm only trying to think of what's best for you."

"Aren't you always?" Niles muttered. "Whatever would I do without my big brother to look out for me?"

Frasier sighed. "Niles…"

"No, don't." Niles took a deep breath. "Let's not do this. You gave Daphne a chance, and I'm grateful. And I know you think you're helping me. I realize you mean well. But please, just trust that I know what I'm doing, what I'm feeling, and let me handle it."

Niles could picture Frasier throwing his hands in the air. "All right," he said. "You're a grown man, it's your decision."

"Thank you," Niles said. "I mean it."

Frasier chuckled. "You're just glad you have a reason to take her out and celebrate."

"Oh! I didn't think of that! You're right, I should ask her to dinner." He said goodbye and hung up, then leaned back in his chair, grinning up at the ceiling. He couldn't wait.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

When Niles got home that afternoon, he dropped his things off in his apartment and knocked on Daphne's door. He had enough time to feel his stomach flutter nervously while he waited, and then she opened it.

"Niles!" she said, and flung her arms around him, spinning him in a giddy, impulsive hug. "I got the job!"

"I know!" he replied, dizzy. She was light and vibrant against him and he wanted to bury his face in the hollow of her throat and breathe her in.

"Come in, come in," she said, and beckoned him into her apartment. It was an identical floor plan to his own, but she'd brightened it up with a light feminine touch. Lacy peach colored curtains hung over the only window, and fresh flowers stood in a vase on her tiny dining table. The furniture was worn, but clean, and arranged cozily around a light oak coffee table. There was agreeable clutter everywhere, although he had to pause a moment when he noticed what appeared to be a ceramic unicorn collection on top of the fridge.

"I'm so glad you got it," Niles said. "I knew they'd love you."

"Well, your father seemed to," she replied. "I don't know about Doctor Crane though. His place is very posh, isn't it? I was afraid I'd break some priceless bit of art every time I turned around."

"Nonsense, you're far too graceful for that."

She smiled, and he was delighted to see a faint blush color her cheeks. "You're much too kind."

"Not at all." Niles took a deep breath. "I believe this calls for a celebration."

"Oh I couldn't," Daphne said, shaking her head. "You've already done so much for me! Just getting me a chance at this job is more than I could have asked."

"You're the one helping me," Niles countered. "Dad has been having trouble finding a good physical therapist and I just know you're going to be perfect."

"We'll see," she said. She sank onto the couch, and Niles sat beside her, giving her a concerned glance.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You seem worried."

"It's just…" She spread her hands. "I've worked for wealthy clients before, back in Manchester, but not like this. Then it was always someone I knew, a friend of a friend or a mate of one of me brothers or something. I always felt like I belonged there. This is different."

"Why?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully to one side. "Doctor Crane went over a few of the things I'd need to do, in addition to the therapy. As a home worker I'm also responsible for things like light cleaning, bit of cooking, errands, that kind of thing. Anything that would be hard for Mr. Crane to do on his own. And it's not as if those jobs are difficult, I've been doing them all me life, but your brother was going on about monitoring the climate of his wine cupboard and pressing his socks so as to not bruise the cashmere."

Niles rolled his eyes. "Don't you let him intimidate you. He's lovably pompous once you get to know him."

"I guess I thought he'd be more like you," Daphne said. "Sweet and generous and sensitive, I mean."

"Oh," Niles said softly. "I… thank you."

Daphne cast him a sideways glance from under her eyelashes. "You're blushing."

"No I'm not," he said hastily, and ducked his head.

She laughed and slipped an arm through his, resting her cheek on his shoulder for a moment. "See? You're sweet. And I really can't take advantage of your kindness any further by letting you take me out someplace to celebrate. I can tell by the way you dress that you're used to the finer things and it would be somewhere awfully expensive and exclusive."

"What's wrong with that?" Niles asked. "You deserve it."

Daphne hesitated. "Niles… why do you live at the Shangri-La?"

Niles froze for a moment, and then chose his reply carefully. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you're a psychiatrist, like your brother, right?" When he nodded, she continued, "And you're used to someone doing for you, taking care of your laundry and such. You're used to a housekeeper or a maid or something. And you have those lovely suits that fit you so well, they must be cut just for you."

"They're not tailored," Niles said quickly. "Well… not all of them."

She waved a hand dismissively. "My point is that you're well off... so why are you here? Shouldn't you be in a fine place like your brother?"

Niles sighed, his shoulders slumping as he sagged back against the couch. He had no idea how to explain this without explaining Maris, and all he could think about was Frasier's belief that rebound relationships were always doomed. What if Daphne thought the same thing? What if she didn't want to date a man going through a divorce? But then again, he couldn't lie to her about it either, that would be starting things off entirely the wrong way.

"I'm sorry," Daphne said, and patted his shoulder. "It's none of me business and I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no, it's okay," Niles said.

"No, it isn't," she insisted. "Here you've been nothing but good to me and I go nosing about in your personal life. Just forget I asked. Please?"

He looked at her, and she looked back with wide-eyed entreaty. She actually seemed upset and Niles found himself wanting to say anything that would make her smile again. "How about this," he said. "I have a very nice bottle of wine at my place that I've been saving for a special occasion, and I say this counts, but it's too much for me to have alone. Come over and let me make you dinner?"

As he'd hoped, she did smile, shyly. "It's only a deal if I can help you cook. Then it's fair."

"Agreed," Niles said. "And Daphne, congratulations. I really am happy for you."

"Oh, thank you," she said, and she squeezed his hand gently. "I just hope I do all right."

"You will," he assured her. They stood, and she walked him to the door.

"What time should I be there?" she asked.

"About seven," he said. "Oh, and I only have one apron, so if you have one make sure to bring it. I wouldn't want you to get anything on that lovely blouse."

She laughed. "Niles, you're always thinking of me."

After she closed the door, Niles murmured, "You have no idea." Then he ducked into his apartment, leaned back against his door, and let out a long sigh of relief. She'd said yes! He had a date with an angel! He grinned widely, then took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. This wasn't the Montana, and if he was going to make it presentable for a lady like Daphne, he had a lot of work to do.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

By seven, the apartment was as nice as it ever would be. The lights didn't have a dimmer switch but Niles improvised by arranging a translucent pale gray throw over the lamp until the light had an almost pearly, moonlit quality. Candles flickered invitingly on the coffee table and soft music played from his small portable stereo. The tiny kitchenette was scrubbed and gleaming, and a last minute trip to the grocery had netted him a plate of canapés, fresh vegetables for a salad, a loaf of French bread and a whole duck to roast for dinner. In a fit of wild optimism, he'd even changed the sheets on his wall-bed, opting for his finest Egyptian cotton.

Not that Daphne was likely to see that, Niles thought. Not tonight. He frowned, glancing anxiously at the candles. Maybe it was too much. He wanted it to be romantic, but he didn't want to put pressure on her either. What if she thought this was just something friendly, something to celebrate her new job? She might not even see it as a date.

He had been pretty clear about his interest though, hadn't he? And she'd noticed the way his clothes fit, that meant she had been looking at more than just his face. Niles tugged self-consciously at the hem of his blue blazer, then squared his shoulders. He knew what he wanted. Better to make sure it was obvious, so if she wasn't interested, she could say so and he could stop guessing.

Niles sank onto the couch, biting his lip. What if she did say so? What if she only wanted to be friends? She was young and beautiful and surely could have her pick of men. How could he be so foolish to even think he had a chance?

But she did seem to like him, and she had blushed when he called her graceful, and he was pretty sure that teaching someone to play pool didn't really require as much hands-on training as she had provided. Maybe he had a chance after all.

Before he could decide one way or the other, there was a knock at the door. Niles scrubbed his hands over his face, adjusted his cuffs, and tried for a casual smile.

"Hello, Daphne," he said as he opened the door. "Right on time."

She returned his smile, although hers looked a little nervous around the edges. "Oh, my," she said as she walked in. "Doesn't this place look lovely!"

"You like it?" he asked. "I thought… maybe it's too much."

"It's beautiful." She had an apron slung over her arm, and she slipped it on as she moved toward the kitchen. "So, what are we making?"

"Oh, nothing too fancy," Niles replied. "I've got the duck in the oven already, but we could start on the salad."

"All right." She washed her hands at the sink, and Niles stood beside her, sharing the water. Their elbows jostled together and they both reached for the towel at the same time. Daphne laughed and handed him one end while she used the other. Niles glanced up at her and found her watching him, her eyes holding a soft shine in the pale light. For a moment he thought she would say something, but then she looked away, and turned toward the counter.

She started slicing a carrot, and he grabbed a knife and started in on a cucumber, sneaking her a sideways glance. "Daphne…"

"Yes?"

"I hope I'm not… that is, I don't want to… I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"I don't," she said, with so much certainty that he felt the anxious knot in his chest dissolve. "I'm glad you invited me tonight."

"You are?"

"Yes." She gave him a rueful smile. "I guess I'm nervous because we haven't known each other very long, and because, well, you're not like any man I've ever dated before."

Niles had to press his lips together to keep from grinning like an idiot. She'd called it a date! "Oh, I'm not?"

"Not at all," she said. "You're so elegant, so smart, I feel a bit out of me depth. Most of the blokes I've dated were mechanics or waiters or they worked on the docks with me brothers."

"Oh." Niles wasn't sure what to make of that. He chopped quietly for a moment, thinking.

"Not that they weren't smart," Daphne continued. "I mean, some of them didn't have a thought in their pretty little heads, but they never lasted long. But they didn't know about things the way you do, about wine and literature and medicine."

"You're not like anyone I've ever dated either," Niles admitted.

"Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. "Most society women are haughty and reserved and wouldn't know how to work a washing machine if their life depended on it."

Daphne didn't reply, but he saw her frown, and her shoulders drooped a little. He added hastily, "None of those things are appealing qualities, by the way. They don't have your warmth, your kindness and compassion."

"Oh, hush," she said, and smiled at him. She swept the chopped carrots into a bowl with the cucumber, and started slicing a tomato.

"I mean it," he said. "A lot of people would have had a bit of fun at my expense when I couldn't even do a simple thing like the laundry. You have an amazingly generous and understanding nature. It's nothing at all like…"

"Like what?"

Niles scooped shredded lettuce into the bowl and turned away quickly, reaching for the wine. "Where are my manners? I haven't even offered you a drink."

"Oh, all right," she said, watching with interest as he poured the wine. "What kind is that?"

"It's a _Chateauneuf-du-Pape_," he said. "It's a spicy red wine with ripe flavors of black fruit, coffee, and pepper, and it goes especially well with roast duck. When you taste it, take a moment to roll it around in your mouth, and then inhale right after you swallow to get the full flavor."

The corner of Daphne's mouth quirked into a smile, but she humored him, swirling the wine thoughtfully. "Mmm," she said. "It's actually very tasty, isn't it?"

Niles nodded and guided her toward the sofa, bringing the plate of canapés with them. They sat and she nibbled at one, making a pleased sound when she tasted it. "You're spoiling me," she said, "but I could get used to it."

"Good," Niles replied simply, and looked at her over the rim of his glass as he took another sip.

She laughed softly and leaned back, letting her shoulder press against his. Niles closed his eyes and soaked it up; the feeling of her warmth and presence at his side, the mingled scents of roasting duck and fine wine, the music softly filling the room, and the light touch of her hand, resting shyly on his knee.

"So," he said after he'd taken a moment to savor it. "Tell me more about yourself. Tell me everything."

"Everything?" She chuckled. "I know I tend to go on with stories about me family, I hardly think you want to hear about that."

"All your stories do seem to be about your family," he agreed. "But what about you?"

She shrugged. "I've got eight brothers, and I'm the only girl. I just kind of got lost in the mix most of the time."

"One brother is plenty," Niles replied wryly. "At least, it is when that brother is Frasier."

"Oh, I could tell you stories that would make your hair stand on end," she said. "Stories that would make your brother seem like a saint."

"I'm sure you could. But the only person I really want to know more about is you."

She smiled, and he was quietly elated when she leaned her head against his shoulder. In a rush of daring, he slipped one arm around her, and she nestled closer, until her hair brushed his cheek. "About me," she said, "all right then."

So she told him about Manchester, about growing up as part of a big family in a small town, about her father and her brothers, and about her dream of living on her own in America, away from all of them. She told him about Grammy Moon and baby brother Michael, about her mother and her home. He listened to all of it, and every story told him more about why Daphne was special, and why he was so lucky to have her across the dinner table, smiling merrily at him, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

They finished the food and the wine, and she insisted on helping him clean up after dinner, especially as he'd done most of the cooking. She flicked soap bubbles at him as they stood over the sink, and he surprised himself by laughing like a boy, without restraint, in a way he hadn't done in years.

Finally, when everything was put away and clean, and the candles were down to guttering stubs, she sighed sleepily and moved toward the door. Niles darted ahead to open it for her.

"Thank you," she said. "And thank you for dinner. It was wonderful."

"Yes, it was," Niles replied softly. "We should do it again sometime."

"I'd like that." She slipped an arm around his waist and leaned closer.

Niles cupped her jaw with his palm, letting his fingers sink into the inviting silk of her hair. The first kiss was light and sweet, her lips warm against his. She pulled him back in for the second, and it was deeper this time, sending fire racing all through him and leaving him weak-kneed and dazed. He swallowed and licked his lips, chasing the lingering taste, and she brushed one more kiss against his jaw. A shiver ran down his spine and goosebumps prickled the back of his neck.

"Good night," she whispered, and he only nodded, speechless.

Then she was gone and he closed the door, threw his arms in the air, and then hugged them to his chest, delighted. It had been perfect, the best evening he'd ever had, and she wanted to see him again! He sank onto the couch, grinned up at the ceiling, and sighed with contentment.

It was only then that he realized he'd never told her about Maris.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

"Niles." Frasier stepped aside, letting him into the apartment.

"Hello, Frasier," Niles said as he sauntered in. "Is Daphne here? I promised her a ride home."

"She's at the park with Dad. She makes him walk Eddie twice a day as part of his therapy."

Niles nodded. "Good, good. How's that going?"

"He hasn't tried to fire her yet," Frasier said. "So, better than usual." He crossed the living room, headed for the bar beside the kitchen. "Sherry?"

"Yes, thank you," Niles replied. He took a sip from the glass Frasier handed him, and gave his brother a considering look. "How about you? You warming up to her at all?"

Frasier sighed. "If you're trying to get me to admit I was wrong about her, you can just stop. I still think she's a kook. Yesterday she told me this terrible story about one of her astonishing number of brothers and how he lost a toe."

"Oh, Michael, right," Niles said. "Steven is her favorite, but I think Michael is fairly high on the list."

Frasier shot him an exasperated glance. "How is it you know every little thing about this woman and she knows next to nothing about you?"

"It's not like I'm trying to hide things from her," Niles replied. "I just love listening to her. So we end up talking about her more than me. Most of her life, people haven't listened to her. Her mother steamrolled right over her, her brothers were all loud troublemakers who got all the attention-she's a middle child in a family with nine children! You can imagine how she's used to being ignored. It makes her happy to be listened to, and when she's happy, I'm happy."

"And that's all there is to it?" Frasier cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "How many dates have you been on now? Three, four?"

"Tonight's our fourth," Niles said, and he bounced a little on his heels in anticipation. "We had dinner at my place, then I took her to see Tristan and Isolde, and then she took me to something called a garage band concert. Which was not actually in a garage but more of a warehouse setting." Niles wrinkled his nose a little at the memory. "Not exactly the Seattle Philharmonic, but all the concrete did make for interesting acoustics."

"You're missing the point, Niles."

"You mean you had one?"

"Stop it." Frasier pinned him with a hard stare. "When are you going to tell her about Maris?"

Niles looked away, then slowly took another sip of his sherry to give himself time to think of a reply. "I'm working up to it."

"You're lying to her every time you see her."

"I am not! I've never said anything untrue to her."

"A lie of omission is still a lie," Frasier pointed out. "She assumes you're single. How do you think she's going to feel when she finds out?"

"I'm not trying to hide it," Niles insisted. "It just hasn't come up." Then he sniffed, feeling a warning tickle in his nose, and hastily groped for his handkerchief.

"Niles…" Frasier shook his head. "Look at you. You can't even convince me without starting a nosebleed, what makes you think you can keep up this little charade with her?"

Niles sighed and sank onto the couch. "Yes, fine, you're right. I have to tell her. I was wrong to wait this long. But I'm just…"

"Just what?" Frasier sat beside him and squeezed his shoulder.

"Scared," Niles admitted. "What if she's angry? What if she wants nothing more to do with me? Frasier, I've never felt like this about anyone before. I can't lose her."

"The longer you wait, the worse it will be."

"I know." He leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing awkwardly through his mouth. "I'll tell her tonight."

"If it's any consolation, I think she'll understand," Frasier said. "I know she's only been working here a few weeks, but I consider myself an excellent judge of character, and she's one of the most forgiving and patient women I've ever met."

"You really think so?" Niles asked anxiously.

"I do." Frasier gave him a wry smile. "And you know something? I hope it works out for you. It's been good seeing you so happy."

"Thank you, Frasier." Niles gave a final sniff and tucked his handkerchief away. "I'm sorry you don't like her. At least Dad seems to."

"Of course I like her," Frasier admitted, a little sheepishly. "She's the opposite of Maris in every way and you're clearly crazy about her. How could I not like her?"

"Aha!" Niles waved a triumphant finger. "I told you!"

"Yes, yes, all right. She's still a kook. It just gets more endearing with time."

Niles laughed softly and tipped back the last of the sherry. "She is difficult to resist, isn't she?"

"Mmm." Frasier gave him a speculative look. "So, three dates. Have you two…"

"What?"

Frasier raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Of course not!" Niles said. "Daphne is a lady. I've given her a gentlemanly kiss goodnight after each date, nothing more. She's not _Roz_, after all."

"Roz is one of a kind," Frasier agreed. "But there's a difference between being a gentleman and being a prude."

"I'm not a prude," Niles retorted. "And it's really none of your business."

"He said prudishly," Frasier replied drolly.

Niles gave an offended huff. "If you must know, I was planning for our dinner tonight to include breakfast tomorrow."

"Don't scramble the eggs just yet," Frasier said. "She might hesitate when she hears you're still married."

"A technicality." Niles frowned. "But you're right. Can't I tell her afterward?"

"Niles!"

"I know, I know." He hung his head. "You're extremely annoying when you're right."

"Then it must be doubly annoying that it happens so often," Frasier replied.

"Very funny."

Niles stood when he heard footsteps in the hall outside, and he tugged at his jacket to smooth the lines. His dad walked in first, with Eddie on a leash, and Daphne was close behind him. "Hi Dad," Niles said. "Hello, Daphne."

"Oh, Niles!" Daphne smiled at him. "Thanks for coming to pick me up. Let me just gather me things and we'll be off."

"No trouble at all," Niles replied. He watched her walk past, tilting his head to catch the way her skirt clung to her hips as she went toward the hall.

"Very subtle, son," Marty said dryly.

Niles jumped and shuffled his feet a little. "Yes, well. Good walk, Dad? Your therapy going well?"

"Yeah, it's all right. Daphne's a peach." He glanced toward the hall and lowered his voice. "You two are going out again tonight, huh? She told me about it."

"Oh? What did she say?"

"She's looking forward to it."

Niles smiled widely. "She is? Really? She said that? What else did she say?"

Marty chuckled. "She said you've got more shoes than she does, and prettier fingernails, and she must really like you because she doesn't even mind."

Niles was saved from coming up with a reply to that when Daphne came back into the room, her purse slung over one shoulder. "All right," she said. "I'm off. Now Mr. Crane, I want you to do your stretches again before bed, and I'll be here at nine tomorrow morning for your exercises."

"Okay," Marty replied, and then he paused, giving Niles a wink. "Actually Daph, would you mind making it ten thirty? I like to sleep in on Sundays."

"Sure," she said. She linked her arm with Niles and leaned in for a quick kiss. "That'll give us more time tonight, won't it?"

"Oh, I hadn't even thought of that," Marty said. "You two kids have fun."

"We will," Niles said. He walked Daphne out, and into the elevator.

Once the elevator doors closed behind them, she stepped close and leaned in for a longer kiss, one hand threading through his hair and the other wrapped around his tie, pulling him in. Niles closed his eyes and ran his fingertips down her back, and completely forgot where he was. The soft chime of the doors opening alerted him just in time to pull back before they gave everyone in the lobby a show.

"Um," he said, and cleared his throat when his voice came out shaky. "Daphne? Before we go out tonight, there's something I want to talk to you about."

"Oh, what is it?"

"I'll tell you when we get home." Niles took her hand as they walked across the lobby. "Tell me about your day."

So she did, and Niles listened, but for the first time she didn't have his full attention. Most of his thoughts were focused on gathering his courage for the night ahead.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Daphne followed Niles into his apartment, and he crossed immediately into the kitchen, more to give himself something to do than because he actually needed anything. "Would you like a drink?" he asked her over his shoulder as he poked through his small wine cupboard. "I have a nice merlot here, very warm and fruity, and oh, there's a cabernet sauvignon that's especially light, you might like that…"

"Niles."

"Or maybe a sangiovese, I don't think you've tried that one yet. It's very plummy but that's what you want if you're pairing it with pasta, really stands up to the starch." Niles could feel her watching him and he rattled the bottles together nervously. "Or, um… let me see…"

"Niles," she said again. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong. What makes you think something's wrong?"

She gave him an anxious look. "What is it? Is it Mr. Crane, does he not like me? Did he ask you to talk to me about the therapy? I have been pushing him a bit hard but he's stubborn, he won't do the exercises at all if I don't make him and he really has made some good progress. Or is it Doctor Crane? I made sure to arrange all his little knick knacks back the way he wanted after I dusted, I followed the diagram he made me and everything."

"No, no," Niles assured her. He took her hands and rubbed his thumbs over her palms soothingly. "Nothing like that. You're doing wonderfully."

"I am? Are you sure?"

"Of course." Niles pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she smiled at him.

"Then what is it?" she asked.

Niles sighed and sat on the couch, pulling her down beside him. He kept a hold of her hands and laced their fingers together, then stared down at them, resting on his knee. "There's something I have to tell you."

Daphne hesitated, and then squeezed his hands gently, encouragingly. "All right," she said. "Tell me."

"First, I want to apologize," Niles began. "I should have told you this sooner. I kept meaning to, and putting it off, and that's not fair to you and I'm so sorry."

"Niles…" She tilted her head to catch his eye, and smiled, but her eyes were worried. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. Go on."

He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "A while ago, you asked why I live here, at the Shangri-La. Why I'm not in a nicer place."

She nodded. "Right, I remember."

"Well, I _was _in a nicer place. I had a beautiful apartment at the Montana, it's one of the best buildings in the city. But I couldn't afford it anymore. All my money was going to lawyers." He paused, gauging her response, and then added, "Divorce lawyers."

"Oh," she said. "Well. Okay, so you were married once. That's not so bad. Lots of people are divorced."

"Yes, lots of people are," Niles agreed. "But… I'm not. Yet."

There was a short silence, a breathless beat of seconds while that sank in, and then she pulled her hands out of his and sat up straight, her jaw set in a hard line. "You're _married?_"

"Separated," he said quickly. "I've been separated for years, the marriage is over. Believe me, Daphne, please. It's _over."_

"If it's so over, why aren't you divorced?" she asked, and his stomach sank when he heard the waver of impending tears in her voice.

"I want to be. I'm _trying_ to be," he said. "She's delaying it intentionally, punishing me for leaving her. She's dragging out the legal battle to drain my finances, and it's working. It's petty, and vengeful, and cold. You're nothing like her, and that's why I…"

"Don't," she said sharply. "You don't get to say that right now."

"Daphne, please," he said. "I should have told you, I know that. I was just so afraid of losing you."

She bit her lip, and nodded. "I see," she murmured. "So that made it all right."

"No," Niles replied. "No, that's not… I'm not saying that. You're the one I want to be with, the one I care about. Maris is no longer a part of my life, and I'm not going back to her." He gestured to the apartment with one hand. "I'm living here because I refuse to go back to her, doesn't that mean something?"

Daphne was quiet, her hands knotted together in her lap, her head tilted forward so her hair hid her face. Niles tried to smooth it back and she jerked away. He dropped his hand slowly, and swallowed. "Daphne…"

"I can't do this right now," she whispered. She raised her face, and he flinched when he saw the tears in her eyes. "I can't talk to you now. I need to think."

"All right," he said. "Whatever you need."

She got stiffly to her feet, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. He tried to catch her eye again but she wouldn't look at him, and she walked out in silence. He watched her disappear into her apartment and then he shut his door, leaned back against it, and put his hands over his face.

Three long, shuddering breaths later, he got enough control to pull out his phone.

"Frasier," he said when his brother answered.

"Niles? What is it?"

Niles closed his eyes. "I told her." His voice broke slightly and he clenched a fist at his side, fighting to keep it steady.

"Oh, Niles," Frasier said. "What do you need?"

"Can you come here?"

"Of course. I'm on my way."

"Thank you," Niles murmured. He slipped the phone back into his pocket, then slid down until he was sitting on the floor with his knees against his chest.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Niles didn't see her for a week after that. She continued to do her job at Frasier's place, but she made it clear to Frasier that it would make her very uncomfortable if Niles was there while she was working, and Niles stayed away to respect her wishes. Frasier had tried to talk to her about it, but she got so upset the first time he didn't raise the subject again.

Niles tried to throw himself into his work, and into finalizing his divorce. His lawyers were highly recommended, highly skilled, highly paid, and useless. So he followed some advice from Frasier and Roz, and got himself a new lawyer. One a little less polite, and a lot more ruthless. Someone who could keep up with Maris, in other words.

He knocked on Daphne's door three different days, when he knew she was home, but she didn't answer. He wrote her two long, heartfelt letters trying to explain, and slipped them under her door. He did not get a reply. At the end of the week, he went to Frasier's for dinner (making sure to call ahead and confirm Daphne had already left for the day).

"Niles, please, come in," Frasier said, opening the door for him. Niles managed a half smile in response.

"Hello," he said. "I brought the Portobello mushrooms you asked for, and some brie to have with them."

"Thanks," Frasier said, and took the grocery bag from his hands. "Sherry?"

"Please." Niles sank onto the couch, and Frasier handed him a glass, then disappeared into the kitchen. Marty was in his chair, watching TV, but he muted it and looked over at Niles.

"How are you doing?" Marty asked.

Niles lifted one shoulder in a listless shrug. "Okay."

"Your meeting with that new lawyer go well?"

"Well enough," Niles said. "He seems optimistic. He did get the court date moved up considerably, so that's good."

"Great," Marty said. There was an awkward pause, and Niles rolled the stem of his glass between his fingers, watching the amber liquid swirl. "So," Marty tried again, "things good at work?"

"Fine," Niles replied. "Keeping busy."

Marty nodded, and they lapsed into silence again. Eddie trotted into the room, hopped on the couch beside Niles, and stared at him. Niles petted him absently, rubbing behind his ears.

"She'll come around," Marty told him.

Niles looked up, and sighed. "I don't think she will. I really hurt her, Dad. That's what kills me. I think I'd feel better if she was angry."

Marty chuckled. "Well, good, because she's plenty angry all right."

"She is?" Niles sat up straighter, raising an eyebrow. "She talked to you about it?"

"What do you think happens on these walks she keeps dragging me on? She was quiet after you first told her, but a couple days later, she wouldn't shut up about it."

"Well, what does she say? Don't leave anything out, it could be important."

"Oh, you know, at first it was all 'the nerve of that bloody man!' and 'how dare he keep something like that secret for so long!' and so on." Marty waved a hand in an impatient gesture. "But on the last couple walks she was cooling off. I'll tell you right now, Niles, she's got a temper when she gets going. You were smart to keep your distance for a while."

"Well, she wanted me to give her time to think."

"And you did," Marty replied. "You listened to her. She likes that about you."

"What about the letters?" Niles asked. "Did she get them? Did she talk about them?"

Marty shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Yeah, she got 'em. And talked about them. She started crying about the second one right in the middle of the park! You know I hate it when women cry, I never know what to say."

Niles pressed a hand to his mouth, and took a deep breath. "I made her cry? That's not what I wanted at all, oh Dad, I made it worse!"

"Aw, geez," Marty said, shaking his head. "Don't you start. It wasn't like that. It was the good kind. Sort of."

"The good kind?" Niles repeated. "How is that different from the kind where she hates me and never wants to see me again?"

"You know, it was…" Marty spread his hands. "Frasier had a word for it. Fras! Come here, explain this to your brother."

"Explain what?" Frasier asked, walking out of the kitchen.

"The other day, when Daphne started crying at the park, you said it was good for her," Marty said. "Something about cats?"

Frasier frowned, and then realization dawned. "No, Dad, I said catharsis. Daphne had internalized her feelings of resentment and betrayal and wasn't expressing them, which is very unhealthy. An emotional outburst provided a much needed catharsis."

"And when were you going to tell me about this?" Niles demanded. "This happened days ago and you didn't think I'd want to know?"

Frasier leveled a stern look at him. "And what would you have done?"

"Well, I'd have gone to her, of course! I can't believe you let her go home alone after that!"

"Niles…" Frasier sighed. "That's exactly why I didn't tell you. She still needs space, and time to think, and seeing you would only confuse the issue. Be patient. Wait for her to come to you on her own terms."

Niles nodded slowly. "All right, I see your point. But Frasier, what if she doesn't come to me?"

"I think she will," Frasier said. "She does care a great deal about you; if she didn't have strong feelings for you, this wouldn't have made her so upset in the first place."

Niles leaned back on the couch and rubbed a hand contemplatively over his jaw. "I suppose that's true," he said. "Do you think I should write her another letter?"

"No," Marty said quickly. "I mean, two is enough. You've said your piece, now the ball is in her court."

Niles wrinkled his nose. "You know I don't understand football metaphors."

Marty laughed and rolled his eyes. Niles shot his brother a confused glance, and Frasier shrugged in return. "Football aside," Frasier said, "I agree with Dad. You've said enough."

"All right," Niles conceded. He smiled at them; wan, but genuine. "Thanks Dad. You've given me more hope than I had before."

Frasier patted his shoulder, then turned when a timer chimed in the kitchen. "Oh, that'll be the roast. Niles, give me a hand?"

Niles rose and followed his brother. He stirred the sauce while Frasier donned oven mitts to take the roast out. It crackled invitingly, juice sizzling in the pan, and for the first time in a week, Niles actually felt hungry. He licked the sauce spoon curiously, and made a pleased hum.

"Yes, it's good, isn't it?" Frasier asked. "Gil gave me the recipe."

"Mmm." Niles speared a grilled Portobello slice from another pan and popped it in his mouth, wincing a little when it burned his tongue. "Delicious," he said around the mouthful of mushroom.

"Hungry?"

"Starving," Niles agreed. He eyed the roast with interest. "I'm glad you invited me tonight. I don't think I could have handled another night alone at the Shangri-La."

Frasier patted his back. "You're always welcome here." He paused, and regarded his brother steadily. "Niles, I know things seem bad right now. The divorce, the apartment, Daphne… it's hard, I realize that. But it's going to get better. And Dad and I will be here for you if you need us."

Niles bit his lip and swallowed, but managed to smile. "Thank you, Frasier."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

"You're kidding," Niles said, his jaw falling open. He nearly dropped his cell phone, but fumbled and caught it, then pressed it back to his ear. "How did you find that out?"

"Did a little digging," his lawyer, Donny, replied. "I have quite a few friends who do this kind of thing."

"But you've only been working for me for two weeks," Niles replied. "We haven't even gone to court yet!"

"What can I say?" Donny replied with a chuckle. "I'm good."

"You're amazing!" Niles leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk, a slow grin spreading across his face. "All this time, I thought her family's money came from timber."

"I'm betting she would rather everyone keep on thinking that."

Niles laughed. "She'll give anything to keep this quiet. I've got her! I'm finally going to get the divorce!"

"Leave it to me," Donny said. "I'm meeting with her lawyers later this afternoon. I'll have something for you faxed over tomorrow morning, and if you like it, we can finish this before the ink is even dry."

"Wonderful," Niles said. "Thank you so much."

"Just doing my job." Donny paused, and Niles heard the rustling of paper. "Now, tell me what you want me to go for. The beach house, the cabin, the cars? You want to try for the mansion? I'll tell you now that one is going to be tough, it's been in her family for a long time, but if you want to play hardball I'm game."

"No," Niles said. He put his feet back on the ground and took a deep breath. "Don't drag it out. No need to be vindictive. Just an even split, nothing more than what's fair."

"You sure?" Donny asked. "Not only do we have this bargaining chip about her family's money, I'm pretty sure I can also prove that she slept with Doctor Schenkman while you two were still married. If we can prove adultery as well as malicious financial harm and emotional stress that she caused by deliberately delaying this divorce, you could walk away with damn near everything she's got."

Niles shook his head absently, although Donny couldn't see him. "I don't want that. Despite all she's done to me, I don't want… there's no reason to make this any harder. Let's just get it over with."

Donny was quiet for a long moment. "You know Niles, I work with a lot of people going through bitter, vicious divorces. Ones with far less money to fight over, who struggle over every scrap just to hurt each other. I don't feel bad for them. They're cruel, and greedy, and they bring it on themselves. But you're actually a decent guy, and I'm sorry your marriage didn't work out. You really did care about her, didn't you?"

"Yes," Niles said softly. "I did. But that's over now."

"All right," Donny replied. "I'll send you the details once I have them hammered out. If she agrees, and I think she will, you'll be a free man by this time next week."

"Thank you," Niles said again, and hung up. He propped his chin in one hand and stared blankly at his office. Fifteen years with Maris, and now it was truly ending. He'd known his marriage was over for a long time, but the reality of it still left him feeling melancholy.

He sat for a while, just thinking. He usually spent the lull between morning and afternoon sessions catching up on his case notes and paperwork, but that day, as often happened lately, he found himself thinking of Daphne instead. He thought of the look of startled wonder on her face when he'd taken her to the opera and she'd heard the soaring aria in the third act. The way she closed her eyes and savored a sip of wine, trying to appreciate it the way he did.

He thought of how she'd looked in an evening gown, with her hair swept up, sleek and elegant, and the smooth curve of her neck exposed. The way she'd laughed when he nearly fell over the pool table trying to make a shot, and the way she smiled at him the first time they kissed. He thought of what she must have been like as a child, awash in a sea of unruly brothers and still managing to hold her own. She had strength and wisdom, grace and compassion, beauty and innocence.

And she hadn't spoken to him in two weeks.

Niles pressed his hands to his face and took a deep breath. Then he looked up when he heard a knock on the door. "Yes, come in," he said.

"Hello Niles," Frasier said, walking into the office. "Thought I'd see if you wanted to join me for lunch."

"Sure," Niles said. "Actually, I'm glad you're here. I just got some good news from my lawyer."

"Really?" Frasier raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Do tell."

"You know Maris comes from a wealthy family-but where does that money come from?"

"Aren't they lumber barons? I remember something about her grandfather being one of the founders of Weyerhauser."

Niles gave him a conspiratorial smile. "That's what she told me, and everyone else, but Donny has, ah," he paused to snicker a little, "_flushed out _her family secret."

"What are you talking about?' Frasier asked.

"Urinal cakes," Niles said. "Her grandfather didn't start a timber company, he started a chemical company. They patented and sold the first urinal cakes, and are now one of the country's biggest suppliers."

Frasier's jaw dropped, and then came back up into a diabolical grin. "You're kidding me."

"That's what I said!" Niles bounced a little on his heels. "He thinks I'll be divorced within the week."

"Niles, that's wonderful!" Frasier gave his brother a hug, then stepped back to look at him. "Isn't it?"

"Of course it is."

"You seem a bit sad," Frasier pointed out.

Niles shrugged, and then nodded. "Well, yes, a little. I did love her once, you know. For a long time."

"I know," Frasier said. "You really tried, Niles. The only reason that marriage lasted as long as it did is because you tried so hard. It's not your fault."

"Maybe," Niles said. "That doesn't matter now anyway. It's all over."

"Which leaves you free to be with Daphne."

"That would make me happy if I thought she wanted to be with me," Niles replied. "Doesn't seem very likely right now."

"Is she still not talking to you?"

"Not a word," Niles said. "I did catch a glimpse of her in the hall the other day. She was carrying groceries and my first instinct was to help her, but she saw me and looked away, and walked faster. That's a pretty clear message."

"And you respected it," Frasier said. "As you've done ever since you told her about Maris. That's very important, Niles. You told me once that it means a lot to Daphne that you listen to her. That for most of her life, people haven't listened."

"That's true," Niles replied. "I'm just not sure it's enough. We only went on three dates, we never even spent the night together. That's not a lot to base a relationship on, especially when she clearly doesn't want to get involved with a man in the middle of a divorce."

"But now," Frasier said, "you're a man at the end of a divorce. Maybe that will make a difference."

Niles spread his hands. "How is she going to know that if I can't even talk to her?"

"I think she's very likely to overhear it when I tell Dad tonight," Frasier replied. "In fact, I'll make sure of it."

"Thank you," Niles said quietly. "You're a good brother."

Frasier inclined his head in thanks. "Now come on, we can just make the first lunch seating at _Le Cigare Volant."_

__TBC


	11. Chapter 11

As promised, Donny delivered a financial settlement proposal to Niles promptly the next morning. It was more than fair, and frankly more than he had hoped for. It would be enough to pay off his remaining legal debts and, given a little time, move him back into the Montana. He signed it and faxed it back before he could lose his nerve.

Maris signed it without complaint-in fact, without a single word. They met in a small office used specifically by her law firm as a mediation room, because it was considered neutral territory. Her lawyers lined one side of the table, while Donny and Niles sat alone on the other side. She was impeccably turned out as always, wearing a tailored silk suit, with a gauzy scarf wrapped around her perfectly coiffed hair, and large sunglasses hiding most of her face. She didn't look at Niles, and turned her head with a haughty sniff when he said hello to her.

It was a small rejection, merely the latest in a line of many, and he didn't expect it to sting as much as it did.

With the settlement done, only the formality of the court date remained, and he didn't need to be present for that. The decree would be summarized and reviewed by the judge, he'd add his stamp of approval, and then it would be final. Donny secured a court date for the following Thursday, a day ahead of his promised time frame.

Then Niles went home, back to the Shangri-La. It was only mid-morning but he'd canceled his appointments for the day. He was in no frame of mind to give competent therapy to anyone.

He was halfway through his second glass of wine when there was a soft knock on the door. Niles cast a disinterested glance at it and tried to decide whether he wanted to get off the couch. The reality of his divorce felt like a weight on his chest, pinning him down. By all rights he should be happy to finally be free, but the bleak future of bachelorhood was all too real. If he'd thought he still had a chance with Daphne, he'd be delighted to be single, but maybe it was foolish to keep clinging to that slender hope.

He tilted the glass and swallowed the rest, his head spinning a little from the influx of alcohol on an empty stomach. He hadn't slept well for days, and his appetite had been sporadic at best. He did all right when it was lunch at the office or dinner with Frasier, but when he was alone at the Shangri-La, food just seemed to take so much effort.

The knock came again, more insistent this time. Niles sighed and got to his feet. He scrubbed a hand over his face and shook himself slightly. Then he shuffled to the door and opened it, to find Daphne on the other side.

"Niles," she said, and then stopped, as if she wasn't sure what to say next. Her hands were knotted anxiously in front of her, but her small smile was hopeful.

"Daphne," Niles whispered. He stepped back and waved her in, and she walked into the apartment. He saw her glance at the open wine bottle on the coffee table, and the glass beside it, and he winced. It wasn't even lunchtime yet. That wasn't going to look good.

"It's not… I don't usually," he said, and waved at the wine.

"It's all right," she said. "I understand."

He nodded, and took a cautious step toward her. "I'm glad you came to see me."

"I'm glad you waited for me to be ready," she replied. "I'm sorry I… the way I stormed out last time, I didn't really give you a chance to explain."

"No, it's not your fault," Niles said. "You had every right to be angry. I'm the one who's sorry."

She flashed a smile at him, guarded but kind, and he took another step toward her. "I hear your divorce is going well?" she asked.

He nodded quickly. "We signed everything today, this morning. It won't be official until Thursday but that's only procedure. The real work is done."

She wrapped a gentle hand around his wrist and drew him closer, then slid her arms around his waist. He sank gratefully into the hug, his own arms fitting easily around her. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed as deep as he could. The relief was a physical thing, a lightness on his shoulders and white noise in his head, making his knees watery and his throat ache. "Thank you," he murmured.

"For what?" she asked, her voice a warm puff of air against his ear. He shivered and held her tighter.

"I can't tell you how much I missed you. How much I needed this."

Her hand stroked up and down his spine, leaving a trail of heat on his skin. "I missed you too," she admitted. "That's why I had to come back, to talk to you. I told myself that if I stopped missing you after only a couple weeks, it wasn't meant to be. But I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Oh, Daphne." He nuzzled the skin of her neck, tasting salt and cotton, and she made a soft sound, more of a sigh than a word. He kissed her again, more deliberately this time, a line of delicate touches along her jaw to a spot just behind her ear that made her tremble.

She pulled back and gave him a stern look, but her face was flushed and her eyes sparkling. "Now, listen," she said. "You be honest with me from now on. I mean it."

"I promise," Niles replied.

"I always thought I'd never get involved with a man who was separated," Daphne said. "Too much of a mess, too much chance I'd just be a rebound for him."

"You're not," Niles said. "You could never be just a rebound. You're so much more. I wish I'd met you first. I wish I'd met you fifteen years ago. I feel like I've already missed time that I should have been with you."

She nodded and leaned into him, rubbing her cheek on his shoulder. "The first time I saw you, I had the oddest feeling that I knew you, that you were familiar. That I was supposed to know you. Everything was so perfect and then I found out you were married and it was all a lie…"

"It wasn't a lie," Niles told her earnestly. "None of it. Everything I said to you, about the way I feel, what you do to me, every word was true. I shouldn't have hidden my divorce from you, I know that. And I won't hide anything from you again. Ask me anything, I'll be honest."

He met her eyes, then took her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles, turned her hand, and pressed another kiss to the inside of her wrist. She watched, and he could hear her breathing speed up.

"I believe you," she said, and drew her hand back. "Now, I've got to go to work. But if you come over to my place later, I'll make you dinner."

"It's a date," Niles said, beaming. "I'll bring the wine."

She nodded, got two steps toward the door, and then spun on her heel. Niles had time to notice the gleam in her eyes and the predatory tilt of her smile, and then her arms were around him. They kissed until he was breathless and dizzy, swaying on his feet, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Then he rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes, feeling the cool silk of her hair soft on his face.

"Are you smelling my hair again?" she asked, sounding amused.

"Yes," he said. "Every chance I get."

She gave a low, throaty laugh. "Well, I did ask you to be honest, glad to see you're taking it seriously."

"Very," Niles replied. "Mmm…" He slid one hand down her back, his fingertips brushing the bare skin just below the hem of her shirt.

"I really do have to go to work," she scolded him, not very convincingly.

"Uh-huh," he said. Her skin was warm, and he traced small circles at the base of her spine while he pressed another line of kisses to her throat.

"Niles…" She pulled back reluctantly. "Later. But… not much later."

He nodded, then drew her back in for one more kiss. "You taste even better than you smell," he mumbled, half drunk on the feel of her in his arms.

She laughed. "And what do I smell like that's so appealing anyway?"

Niles closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Cherry bark and almonds."

END


End file.
